DON’T GET HER STARTED... ON S UN-DENTITY CRISIS

You catch me in the midst of an epic SIC – Sundress Identity Crisis. As I write, it’s 28 degrees and sunny – which it might not be when you read this (Brit summers, eh?). Though then again, it may be hotter (Brit summers, eh?). Anyway. I long to wear a sundress. Sundresses! Flirty and freeing and sexy and cool; low maintenance (why go to the bother of working out what top thing goes with what bottom thing, when you can get both things, in one?), probably the easiest piece to go to the loo in, ever! Sundresses don’t rub, they don’t dig in, they always make sense. At work, in parks, in pubs, at parties. Layer ’em with jewels if you want to look fancy, edge ’em up with trainers if you want to look like you really are not the kind of girl who wears dresses, it’s just that, right now, you are, and, yeah… You sort of know you look great, thanks. Sundresses have so much going for them!

Yet I am not wearing a sundress. Why? Because I haven’t found one that suits my soul, encapsulates my vibe, doesn’t make me feel Fashion Fraudulent, which is what happens when you wear a thing because you want to want to – not because you’re really feeling it. That is the nature of my Sundress Identity Crisis.

It’s weird, because there are so many sundress identities to choose from; so many I’d be happy to assume (in theory). Not Vintage Teadress Lady, obvs (never that, not me), but I could be Hot ’70s Mum in a button-through denim number! Or, or… red flamenco sundress emoji lady, exotic and twirly and a verified fashion-tech crossover (see 10 Hot Stories for deets)! I could be Elizabeth Taylor in an elevated lace-trim slip, in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof. I could be either of the two current variations on Boho Sundress Woman – Skanky Mish-mash Patchwork San Francisco Death Cult Boho Sundress Woman (an aesthetic propagated within the pages of Emma Cline’s superb best-seller, The Girls); or Upmarket Boho Sundress Woman, in a pristine Net-aPorter-acquired kaftan, belted and further poshed up with some Wolford bodywear beneath it, big gold hoops in my ears.

I’d love to be any of these modern sundress-wearing archetypes – yet apparently, I am none of them. I’ve tried, felt the fraudulence, de-frocked, and resorted to the repeated wearing of denim cut-offs in circumstances I probably shouldn’t while hoping everyone rolls with it, because: I have nothing else to give.

THINGS WITH THINGS ON THE BACK OF THEM

Embroidered bombers, painted bikers and Levi’s tailor shop- customised trucker jackets.

MISTING

New step for your everevolving skincare regime ( after cleansing, before serum). My fave: Niod Superoxide Dismutase Saccharide Mist.